


Meeting the Secretary

by Tangofic



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 17:28:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10541160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangofic/pseuds/Tangofic
Summary: Steve has just woken from the ice a few days before.  Peggy has stayed young while he was frozen.  No explanation given in this story.  I haven't written fic in many years and this is my first Steggy fic so please be gentle. :)





	

"The Secretary of Defense," Steve repeated stepping into the elevator with Fury.  He was having a hell of a week already and Nick Fury was not exactly forthcoming with details.

"My boss," Fury explained, pressing the button for the top floor.  Fury's eye patch surrounded by scars didn't exactly blend in with the suits and military personnel bustling around the place.  Steve hadn't been awake long, but he was betting Fury didn't blend in many places. 

"I thought you were the boss." Steve watched through the glass as the ground quickly sped away.  There was nothing here of home.  The air smelled different, the clothes he wore didn't feel the same.  He felt like an intruder, which he supposed he was.  He should be an old man in a rocking chair talking to Peggy about the grandchildren they were supposed to have.  At this moment, he would trade everything for just one day of that dream.

"Everyone reports to someone," Fury answered.  "She and Howard started SHIELD before I was a twinkle in my Daddy's eye."  He flipped a panel and pressed his hand on a scanner and the elevator door slid open to a private office.  And there she was.

Steve stopped abruptly and stared.  The sight of her hit him harder than the wall he broke through a few days ago.  His mouth went dry and struggled not to sway where he stood.  

"Hello Steve." Her voice was crisp and sharp.  Her clothing was different, her hair and makeup had changed but it was Peggy.  His Peggy.  She was still as young and beautiful as he remembered but her eyes were weighted with experience that hadn’t been there before - and she hadn’t been an innocent even then.  

He moved forward just closely enough to touch her, just to see if she was real, sliding his hand from her shoulder down her arm.  As his hand moved from the short sleeve of her blouse to her skin, absorbed in the reality of her, he didn’t register the narrowing of her pretty brown eyes.  She pulled back her fist and she punched him hard in the face.  Too stunned to react at first, he barely blocked the kick that with her high heel could have caused some serious damage.  He blocked the kick and the following upper cut.  He caught both her wrists as she struggled to land another blow and pulled her into his arms. 

“You stupid jerk,” she cried, her voice muffled against his hard chest.  She sobbed against him and struggled halfheartedly.  “You flaming idiot!”

“I know,” he said, holding her tightly against him, smoothing her hair over and over.  “I’m sorry.”

After long moments, she stepped back, yanking her arms free.  She breathed for a moment and then her throat and uttered a command to the room.  The locks snicked shut and the computer screens went blank.  She wiped impatiently at the tears still on her cheeks with trembling hands. 

He approached her again slowly, prepared to defend himself again if need be, and touched her again, sliding his hand to her waist and around pulling her closer against his body.  She opened her mouth, maybe to protest, but he covered her mouth with his.  He groaned as she opened for him, touching her tongue with his.  He inhaled her scent, plunged his hands into her hair and took.  Every daydream he had of being alone with her, every regret he had for not making her his when he had the chance, rose up in him.  He yanked up her blouse up just enough to slide his hands over her skin, moving over her sides and back.  He had to touch her skin and feel everything he thought he had missed.

In silent agreement, she pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor.  He stared at her breasts plunging from her bra and felt his heart gallop in his chest.  She pushed him back, nudging him to the floor and he went, lying back on her fancy carpet as she straddled him.  He caught a glimpse of tiny panties as her skirt rode up and she rubbed her sex against his.

“God Peggy,” he groaned pulling her down for a kiss and daring to slide his hands over her beautiful breasts.  They were going from zero to sixty but he wasn’t about to complain.  At 95 years old, he had no time to wait and no room to think as she pulled his shirt up and began nibbling and licking his chest and stomach.  He struggled out of the shirt and managed to half rip it before it was gone and he was bared to her mouth and hands.  When she moved back to his mouth he tried to unhook her bra but it tore apart in his hands.  He rolled them so he was on top and he could lick and suck her nipples until she was grinding underneath him. 

They rolled across the floor, banging into comfy seating area chairs and the legs of her desk before they were both naked and she was caressing his hard, throbbing cock.  He gritted his teeth and prayed that he wouldn’t embarrass himself as he gasped her name and tried not to beg.  She took mercy on him and mounted him, sliding him inside and moving with hard, deep thrusts.  The sounds coming from him were barely human.  She felt so fucking good, so perfect.  He slid his hands over her body, touching, memorizing her curves and her soft skin.  She moved one of his hands between her thighs and taught him how to touch her, how to make her moans get throatier and sexier.  She came with a shout and he rolled them again thrusting to find his completion in an almost desperate need for release.

He fell to his back, pulling her with him.  He could feel her warm breath against his skin and sighed.  “I love you, Peggy.”

“Asshole,” she muttered, snuggling against him closer, her arm tightening around him.

Her intercom beeped, breaking the silence in the room and she groaned.  Her assistant’s voice rang into the room, “Madam Secretary, your three o’clock is here.”  Peggy jerked back so hard she knocked her head on the corner of her desk.  She cursed violently and scrambled to her feet, gathering her clothing and not meeting his eyes.  He watched her scramble around, enjoying the sight of her naked body as she gathered her clothes.

“Steve, get up and get dressed,” she hissed.  He languidly got to his feet and started pulling on his clothing.  As he shrugged into his torn shirt, he glanced over at her desk and noticed her sleek black desk plaque for the first time: “Margaret Rogers, Secretary of Defense.”

He glanced over at her shimmying into her skirt and waited for her to look back at him.  He pointedly looked at the plaque and back to her.  “Margaret _Rogers_?” he asked, smiling broadly.

“No one likes you,” she blurted acidly and ducked into her private bathroom but didn’t get away before he saw the color rush to her cheeks.  “I had to change my name every once in a while.  Don’t let it go to your head.”

He picked up the plaque smoothing his hands over the letters and laughed as he hadn’t since Bucky had been alive.  Dammit, she loved him too.

END


End file.
